The Hipno Chronicles:
Ghosts of Liandris
Chapter 2:
HIPNO-III
1950 HOURS, DECEMBER 27, 2485(IMPERIAL CALENDAR) \
ZETA MULRADIS SYSTEM, PLANET LIANDRIS BETA, CAMP CURRAHEE
Kikoji watched the incoming Herons. The blocky, jet-powered craft were so distant they were only specks against the setting sun. He hit the magnification on his prototype of the SPI armor, and saw lines of fire tracing their reentry vectors. They would touch down in three minutes.
In the last six months he had developed a training regime tougher than the original HIPNO program. He had created obstacle courses, firing ranges, classrooms, mess halls, and dormitories from what had been jungle and scrub plain.
He had received every piece of equipment he had requested from NavSpecWep Section 1. Guns, ammunition, dropships, tanks--even samples of Furian technology and weaponry had appeared as if by sleight of hand.
All personnel were accounted for: six dozen handpicked drill instructors, physical therapists, doctors, nurses, psychologists, and the all-important cooks...all here except the most critical person, who was now on the incoming transports: Senior Chief Petty Officer Domovoi Kuran.
Kuran had, a dozen years ago, trained the first of the Hipnos. He would be invaluable in preparing the new breed of HIPNO-III, but he wasn't going to be the solution to all Kikoji's problems.
After poring over every detail of the new recruits' files, Kikoji discovered they didn't match the perfect psychological and genetic markers set by Dr. Kalsonai's original selection protocols. Colonel Ackerson had warned him they had to draw from a "less statistically robust" group. These recruits wouldn't be anything like himself or Jesuit.
And this would only add to a long list of challenges. With a final target class four times larger than the HIPNO-II's, a severely truncated training schedule, and the need for these Hipnos in the war increasing every month, Kikoji, in fact, expected a disaster.
The Heron transports swooped down on final approch and angled their thrusters. The sod on the parade field rippled like velvet. One by one they gingerly touched down.
Although the prototype SPI armor wasn't designed to bear rank insignia, he nonetheless felt the weight of his new Colonel stars. They pressed down on him as if they were a ton each, as if the weight of the entire war and future of Pyxis Priea rested squarely on his chest. Which it did.
"Sir?" a voice whispered in his COM.
The voice belonged to the artificial intelligence Unending Summer. It was officially assigned to the planetary survey team stationed in the northern section of the peninsula.
Kikoji wasn't sure why Colonel Ackerson had insisted that Camp Currahee be built next to the facility. He was sure, however, there had been a reason.
"Go ahead, Summer."
"Updated details on the candidates available," it said.
"Thank you."
"Thank me after your so-called test, sir." Unending Summer terminated transmission with a hiss of static that sounded like angry bees.
Cajoled by Section 1 brass, Unending Summer had agreed to devote 9 percent of its runtime to the HIPNO-III project. The AI was of the 'smart' variety, which meant there were no limits on its knowledge capacity or creativity. Despite its occasional theatrics, Kikoji was grateful for its help.
Kikoji blinked and accessed the candidates' data on his HUD. Each name had a serial number and linked to background files. There were 497 of them, a collection of four-, five-, and six-year-old Kedrian and Basitin younglings that he somehow had to forge into a fighting force unparralleled in the history of warfare.
The hatch of the nearest Heron opened with a hiss, and a tall wolf strode out.
Dom had aged well. His trim body looked chiseled from ironwood, but the fur was now silver, and there were deep creases around his eyes and a set of ragged scars that ran brow to chin.
"Chief," Kikoji resisted the urge to snap to attention as Kuran saluted. As odd as it felt, Kikoji was now his commanding officer. He returned the salute.
"Senior Chief Petty Officer Kuran reporting for duty, sir."
After the botched HIPNO-II program, Chief Kuran had, at his request, been reassigned to active duty. He'd fought the ruthless Lady Furia on five worlds, and been awarded two Purple Hearts.
"You were briefed on the flight?"
"Completely," Kuran said. As he looked Kikoji over in his SPI armor, emotions played over his face: awe, approval, and resolve. "We'll get these new recruits trained, sir."
That was precisely the response Kikoji had hoped for. Kuran was a legend among Hipnos. He had tricked, trapped, and tortured them as children. They all hated, and then learned to admire, the wolf. He had taught them how to fight--and how to win.
"Do they let you drink now?" Kuran asked.
"Chief?"
"A bad joke, sir. We might both need one before this day is over," he said. "The new trainees are, well, sir, a little wild. I don't know if either of us is ready for this."
He turned to the Herons, inhaled, and yelled, "Recruits, fall out!"
Kids streamed off dropship ramps. Hundreds tromped onto the field, screaming, and throwing clumps of soil and grass at one another. After being cooped up for hours, they went wild. A few, however, milled near the ships, dark circles under their eyes, and they huddled together. Adult handlers herded them onto the grass.
"You've read Lord of the Flies, sir?" Kuran muttered.
"I have," Kikoji replied. "But your analogy will not hold. These children will have guidance. They will have discipline. And they have one thing no ordinary children have, not even the HIPNO-II candidates. Motivation."
Kikoji linked his armor's COM to the camp loudspeakers. He cleared his throat and the sound rumbled over the field like thunder.
Nearly five hundred crazed children stopped in their tracks, fell silent, and turned, amazed, at the panther in the stylized black armor.
"Attention, recruits," Kikoji said, standing akimbo. "I am Colonel Mantadurru. You have all endured great hardships to be here. I know each and every one of you has lost your loved ones on Jericho II, Archon V, and Rapturous Ark. Lady Furia has made orphans of you all."
Every kid stared at him, some with tears now gleaming in their eyes, others with pure, burning hatred.
"I am going to give you a chance to learn how to fight, a chance to become the best soldiers the Empire has ever produced, a chance to destroy Furia's army. I am giving you a chance to be like me: a Hipno."
The kids crowded before him, close...but none actually dared touch the shimmering pitch black armor.
"We cannot accept everyone, though," Kikoji continued. "There are five hundred of you. We have three hundred training slots. So tonight, Senior Chief Petty Officer Kuran"--he nodded at the Chief--"has devised a way to separate those who truly want this opportunity from those who do not."
Kikoji handed him a tablet reader. "Chief?"
To his credit, Dom registered shock for only a split second. He scanned the tablet, frowned, but nodded. "Yes, sir," he whispered.
Kuran yelled at the children, "You want to be Hipnos? Then get back on those ships."
They stood, shocked, staring at him.
"No? I guess we found some washouts. You." He pointed to one child at random. "You. And you."
The chosen kids looked at each other, at the ground, and then shook their heads.
"No?" Kuran said. "Then get on those Herons."
They did so, and so did the others, a slow shuffling procession.
"Drill instructors," Kuran yelled.
Three dozen NCO's snapped to attention.
"You will find Eagle Wing aerial descent units on the field. Load them ASAP and make sure your trainees are properly fitted. Their safe deployment is now your responsibility."
The DI's nodded and ran toward the bundled Eagle Wing backpacks.
Kuran turned back to Kikoji. "You're going to make them drop?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "At night?"
"The Eagles are the safest drop units."
"With respect, sir, some of them are only four years old."
"Motivation, Chief. If they can do this, they'll be ready for what we have to put them through." Kikoji watched the Herons fire their jets and scorch the grass. "But just in case," he added, "deploy all dropships to recover the candidates. There may be accidents."
Kuran exhaled deeply. "Yes, sir." He started for the nearest Heron.
"Chief," Kikoji said. "I'm sorry that order had to come from you."
"I understand." Kuran replied. "You're their CO. You have to inspire and command their respect. I'm their drill instructor. I get to be their worst nightmare." He gave Kikoji a crooked smile and climbed aboard.
Part II
Shane clung to the plastic loops on the side of the Heron's hull. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the other kids--packed so close he couldn't have fallen if he let go. The roar of the Heron's jets was deafening, but still he could hear his heart hammering in his chest.
This was the end of a journey that had started years ago. He'd heard jets like this when it started, the jets of the light freighter as it rocketed away from Archon V. It had been crowded on that ship, too...filled with refugees trying to get as far away, as fast as they could, from the monsters.
Only one in every six ships made it.
Sometimes Shane wished he hadn't lived and seen the monsters kill his father, to witness his sister and mother raped. He wished he could have burned with the rest of the planet.
When the Navy man had come to visit him in the orphanage and asked if Shane wanted to get even with them, he immediately volunteered. No matter what it took, he would kill all of the Furians.
They had given him lots of tests, the written kind, blood tests, and then a monthlong space trip as the Navy man collected more and more volunteers.
Shane had thought the testing was over when they finally got into the Herons and came to this new place, but he'd barely touched the ground when they'd been shoved back inside and sent back into the air.
He'd gotten a glimpse of the one in charge. He wore armor like Shane had seen in fairy tale books: the Black Knight who fought dragons. That's what Shane wanted. He was going to wear armor like that one day and kill all the monsters.
"Check your straps," an old Navy man barked at him and the other kids.
Shane tugged at the black backpack that they'd put on him three minutes ago. It weighed almost as much as him, and the straps had been pulled so tight they cut into his ribs.
"Report any looseness," the man shouted over the roar of the engines. None of the twenty other kids said anything.
"Recruits, stand by," the man barked. He listened into his headphones and then a green light blinked on a panel near his head. The man punched numbers into a keypad.
The back of the Heron hissed open, the ramp lowered, and a tornado screamed around shane. He yelled; so did the other children. They all pushed and shoved to the front of the Heron's bay.
The old Navy man stood by the open bay door, unafraid that only a meter to his rear was open sky. He regarded the squirming children with disgust.
Behind him, a dusky orange band marked the edge of the world. Twilight and lengthening shadows slipped over snowcapped mountains.
"You will form a line and jump," the man shouted. "You will count to ten and pull this." He reached up to his left shoulder, grasped the bright red handle their, and made a pretend pull motion. "Some confusion will be normal."
The kids stared at him. No one moved.
"If you cannot do this," the man said. "You cannot be a Hipno. It's your choice."
Shand looked at the other kids. They looked at him.
A rather attractive young female wolf stepped forward. "I'll go first, sir." she yelled.
"Good girl," he said. "Go right to the edge; hang on to the guide line."
She took two long strides to the opening, took three deep breaths, and jumped. The wind caught her, and she quickly vanished into the dark.
"Next!" the man shouted.
All the kids, Shane included, slowly formed a line. He couldn't believe they were doing this. It was nuts.
The next boy got to the edge, looked down, and screamed. He fell backward, and scrambled away. "No!" he said. "No way!"
"Next!" the man called, and didn't give the fox cowering on the deck another glance.
The next one jumped without even looking. And the next. Then it was Shane's turn.
He couldn't move his legs.